


Heartache

by klowntatorship



Series: Cyberpunk fics [4]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans V, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28380147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klowntatorship/pseuds/klowntatorship
Summary: “Good, your mine to ruin. No one else gets this, no one else gets to see you like this.” Johnny growls into V’s ear as he begins to rock his hips in and out of V in a steady rhythm. The sudden uptick in his movements making V keen loudly, hands scrambling for purchase in Johnny’s shoulder blades.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Male V, Johnny Silverhand/V, Male V (Cyberpunk 2077)/Original Character(s)
Series: Cyberpunk fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057706
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123





	Heartache

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl, writing these has highkey ruined any kind of romance in this game because my mind keeps coming back to what I've done between my V and Johnny here lmao. But who knows maybe I'll dabble in smth Kerry/V when I wrap this up.
> 
> This was also lowkey inspired by me fucking Panam and then thinking about how Johnny would feel about that :^)

V’s high, but that’s not exactly something new. The remnants of finely chopped white powder on the bathroom countertop are there to give him away. Frankly, he’s far more concerned with the fact that he snorted his coke off some dives bathroom counter. That was likely to hit him harder than the drugs were. He didn’t know when the last time the staff cleaned either. This was a situation where being blissfully unaware was better.

Straightening up, he shakes himself loose, listening briefly for whatever songs are playing in the club. He could hardly make out what was playing, not that it mattered though. His arms dangle by his side before he lifts them to rub away any remaining powder from his nostril. The inhale of air he takes is sharp, bites bitterly at the damaged skin. He could care less right now, not when he feels on top of the fucking world. It felt like electricity prickling through his body, he could feel each synapse firing, and he felt fucking  _ amazing _ . V’s quick to leave the bathroom lest Johnny show up or his high would taper down from spending too long lost in his thoughts. It was a short window before he’d be coming down and itching for another fix.

But the thing was, that wasn’t an issue anymore. V wasn’t the junkie kid that he was at seventeen; now, he had money, power, and a reputation. If he wanted drugs? There were no unsavory acts to be performed. He had the eddies to feed his habit. V gives himself one final glance at himself in the mirror, eyes rolling over his body and stopping only for a moment to linger on the dog tags around his neck. Lips curl into a thin frown before he turns, pushing open the door back to the club. The sudden assault of bass and loud synth music smacks his body like running head on into a wall. It was like he could feel each note swimming through his mind, vibrating through his body. 

He makes his way to the dance floor, eager to shake off some of this excess energy that’s pumping through him. V’s body moves with ease, or at least he thinks it does. There are eyes on him, so he must be. Or he’s horribly misjudged how high he is, and he’s tarnishing his reputation with his dance moves. But then there are hands sliding along his hands, and he knows it’s the former. He knows that even if he can’t dance, he’s at least hooked, lined, and sank. Unfamiliar fingers move gently to play at the hem of his tank top, teasing gently at the flesh of his hips. 

V’s eyes drift close, hips swaying to the bassy sound of the music blaring through the club. Confidently, his hand moves, sliding up the stranger’s arm to run up and tangle his fingers into the soft locks drawing him in closer. It was a gentle nudge of encouragement. Thankfully, he gets the hint, fingertips slipping under V’s clothing to explore his taut abdomen. The man’s fingers are soft, clearly not one for regularly packing lead into people’s skulls. Or hardened from plucking the strings of a guitar. 

Eyes clenched shut at that thought, now was not the time to be thinking about Johnny. Even when the other man wasn’t leaning on a wall in his peripherals, he still managed to worm his way into V’s fucking head. All he wanted was one fucking night without the other man. Just for one night of normalcy, that constant hanging of his death to be out of his head for the time being. 

He rocks his hips back, feels the man behinds stiff cock through layers of clothing. He wants it. He wants to be fucked till his mind turns to mush. Fingertips still, only moments before they curl around V’s hips, holding him steady and pulling him closer. 

There’s a puff of breath against his ear, and it causes him to shiver. He goes to turn his head into the sensation, stopping only when he hears that fucking voice.

“You really are a cheap whore huh?” V grits his teeth as Johnny’s voice rings in his head. He hates the way it turns him on and pisses him off all the same. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. “Don’t even know what this gonks face looks like, and you’re already thinking about his cock fucking you deep.”

“Yeah and you have a problem with that?” God, he hoped he hadn’t said that out loud. The man doesn’t respond or indicate that he’s heard something, so V assumes he’s safe on that front. His stranger companion was still rocking against V’s movements, meeting him in a rhythm that screams they had just met. They didn’t know each other, didn’t know what worked and what didn’t. It was disjointed and imperfect. It wasn’t right.

“He’s not going to fuck you right. You know that baby.” The words feel hot in V’s ear, it was gentle and coaxing. Manipulative. The words make his brain slow to a crawl, and he feels a pulling in his chest. His body craved Johnny, and he knew that some random lay wouldn’t satiate his desires. “He’s not what you need, what you want.”

“You don’t know  _ shit _ .” 

“I know you’re thinking about me. So if he really was Mr. Right don’t think you’d be thinkin’ about another man’s cock.” Johnny laughs, a hardness to the tone. V could feel it, anger rolling off the older man in slow cascades. V opens his eyes, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of Johnny. He’s wearing his glasses, so he can’t tell much from his face aside from the way his lips curl up in a small snarl. “Or maybe you’re just that much of a whore.”

“Fine, think you can do better?” 

“Know I can baby.”

And in a moment of weakness, he turns his head further while drawing the man’s ear to meet his lips. “Meet me in the bathroom, I’ll meet you there.” He releases himself from the man’s grip, turns over his shoulder, and winks at him. 

This was the first time that he got to see the other man despite the fact he had already gotten somewhat intimately familiar with the other’s body. He almost thinks that he’s made a mistake when his eyes roll over the man’s handsome appearance. The man smiles at him, lips spreading into a sly smirk before he makes his way to the bathroom. The look of ‘I’m about to get laid’ painted clear on his face. Yet rather than help the nameless stranger with that, V finds himself ducking out of the club without a second thought for the blue balls he would be giving the poor gonk.

“Ruthless. Setting him up to score only to high tail it out of there.” Johnny gets out through vicious laughter. There’s a smugness to the way he speaks, and he knows he’s won. V knows he’s won, and he’d rather die than admit that to Johnny. He didn’t want to admit that he was weak to Johnny’s whims; he showed it in his actions, sure but disclosing it? That was another thing altogether. 

It was easier just to do it rather than say it. Pop a pseudoendotrizine and let Johnny take the wheel and do what he wanted with his husk of a body. If that didn’t scream that he was wrapped around Johnny’s chrome finger, he didn’t know what fucking did.

“Yeah and you better make it worth my time.” V mutters, shooting a glare over at Johnny as he walks quickly towards his apartment. “Would’ve already been getting fucked if it wasn’t for you.”

Johnny just hums in response as V lights a cigarette. He needed the small boost of dopamine, the come down from the blow beginning to settle in, irritation biting at his insides as he felt that ravenous gnawing for more. Maybe he’d do another couple of lines before he and Johnny got on with their night. There was no reason the party had to stop when they got home, right?

The short walk to V’s apartment is quiet. They don’t exchange any words, but V can’t stop the hairs from rising on the back of his neck as they walk. The way Johnny looked at him reeked of possession, and it made him feel small under his gaze. V could still feel the slow-burning anger in Johnny’s stare, could feel the way he wanted to pack lead into that fucker at the club’s skull for daring to touch what was his. For thinking, he was good enough to fuck V like he needed to be fucked.

V had mixed feelings on that, unsure of how he felt about being _owned_ , especially by a long dead man who was taking up space in his head. Nothing screamed stability like a possessive head poltergeist.

Johnny snorts at that, and V can’t help but crack a smile as well.

“You weren’t stable before I got here.” Johnny points out as they walked up the litter filled stairs of the apartment complex, the sound of V’s boots echoing off the concrete structure. The neon LED lights of the billboards and stalls, bringing enough light to guide the way. “You’re a fuckin’ drug addict, wouldn’t know stability if it came and put it's piece in your face.” 

“At least I’m a functioning drug addict.” V points out, giving Johnny a sideways look. Johnny chuckles, leaning against the wall as V opens the door to his apartment. 

The minute that door closes, the atmosphere shift is fucking polarizing. Going from light banter to a sudden oppressive fog of lust and domineer in mere seconds. Johnny hadn’t calmed down the slightest in the short walk from the club to his apartment, instead letting it fester and boil over into this.

V’s shoved into the door the instant it slides shut, the familiar roughness making excitement curl in the pit of his stomach. One day, he would have to really piss Johnny off to see just what he was capable of. He gets a moment to breathe before Johnny is kissing him. There’s a ferocity to it. Teeth sinking into his pierced lip, tugging at the piercing before his tongue is forcing its way inside to explore and conquer. Johnny’s presence was all-consuming; it suffocated him. All he could taste was Johnny, all he could hear was him, and God, all he could feel was him. It felt good and set fire to his body. Blow be damned, this was what he needed—the sudden rush of neurotransmitters flooding his deprived brain and making him forget everything for a moment, forcing him to stay within the moment. 

There’s no time wasted, Johnny’s hand slipping between the waistband of V’s jeans to brush through the man’s folds, damn near purring at the slick that collected on the man’s fingers. “God you’re fucking soaked.”

“Yeah, that gonk is just so good. Still has me wet thinking about him.” V gasps, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. He cries out when two of Johnny’s fingers suddenly push in. He’s wet enough that the intrusion only has him groaning in satisfaction. Even if it were to hurt, he didn’t think that’d be a bad thing coming from Johnny. Pain with Johnny was controlled, calculated, and used to only bring him further into the pits of decadency. At least, it was now. They were well past the point of Johnny trying to kill him.

“You got some fuckin’ mouth, V.” Johnny growls, slowly pumping his fingers in and out, brushing that bundle of nerves with every movement, drawing choked noises from V each time he did it. “Should put it to fucking use.” 

He withdraws his fingers and holds them up to V’s mouth. The younger man’s mouth parts obediently, and he slowly takes the man’s digits within his mouth. V’s tongue runs up the seam of the two fingers, cheeks hollowing him as he relishes the taste of himself and the pressure of Johnny’s fingers against his tongue. Not once does he break eye contact; he trains his steely gaze to meet Johnny’s. He can pinpoint the second that Johnny’s pupils dilate with the way V flicks his tongue.

The older man pulls his fingers from V’s mouth and gives him a devilish smile, pushing him firmly on the shoulder till V sunk against the wall to his knees. V makes quick work of the man’s fly, pulling down his pants and briefs to get his cock out. No time is wasted in getting him into his mouth either. He doesn’t pause, even as Johnny steps out of his pants. 

V’s tongue swirls gently around the head of his cock, the taste of pre cum filling his mouth. The flat of his tongue runs over the slit before slowly V sinks his head further down Johnny’s length, continuing till his nose presses into the wiry hairs at the base of Johnny’s cock. 

“That’s it baby, God you’re fucking hot when you aren’t talking.” Johnny ran his hands through V’s hair and tugged sharply as V sucked, hollowing his cheeks around the length. He continues like this, bobbing his head fervently, enthralled by the sounds Johnny makes. The way his breath hitches just so when V’s tongue drags along the vein on the underside of his cock

“Shit, V,” Johnny muses, hips rocking into the man’s mouth till the head of his cock bumps against the back of V’s throat. “Should just keep you like this all the time, my own personal cock warmer. It’d be a better use of that mouth that’s for sure.”

For a brief moment, V considered just biting the man’s cock off, but as if on cue, Johnny was pulling him off with a small curse and soft laughter.

“I fucking hate you.” V spits, though his tone is jovial and lacking any real bite to it. Any harshness in his words is lost with how he trails his hands along Johnny’s body as he got to his feet once more. Johnny ignores him instead leaning in, pressing harsh kisses to V’s neck as he grabs two handfuls of V’s ass.

“Tell me that again when I’m making you cum all over my cock.” Johnny laughs as V jumps up, his gangly legs wrapping around Johnny’s waist. He walks across the room, gets close enough to the bed, and tosses him down onto the mattress. V bounces a few times before sitting up on the bed, and he pulls off his shirt and jacket, tossing them off the side. The dog tags, however, he keeps those on him; the cool metal having heated against his searing skin. 

“Are we going to get to that?” V asks as Johnny crawls onto the bed, pushing the other man back, so he was lying on the bed. Johnny’s skilled hands make quick work of his jeans. He lifts his hips to help the other man get them off along with his soaked briefs. “Because I could’ve already been get-”

V’s words fell short, fizzling out into a low groan as the man sank between his legs, lips wrapping around his hard clit. His head lulled back against the bed, hips rocking up involuntarily into Johnny’s mouth.

“This what you wanted?” Johnny asks before resuming the movements of his tongue. He drags his tongue through the slick V drips before pushing his tongue inside of the man. V cries out, hands flying to fist in Johnny’s hair, holding him there against his throbbing cunt. Not that Johnny minded at all, he would gladly die again face first in V’s cunt if it meant making the man’s thighs tremble and a cacophony of sounds tumble past trembling lips. He draws back slowly, and V lessens his grip on Johnny’s hair. Johnny peers up between V’s legs and flicks him a smug smirk “God, love hearing you moan like that.”

“Then don’t fuckin’ stop.” V groans as Johnny’s mouths on him again. He takes his time, feeling V out with his tongue, enjoying the way the man quivers and moans again and again till his thighs squeeze around Johnny’s head and he’s coming in a choked cry. The older man works him through it, not stopping till he’s sure V is thoroughly fucked. 

Drawing back, Johnny looks down at V and drinks up the sight as he pulls off his tank top, tossing it beside them. V’s cheeks are flushed, his scarred chest rising and falling rapidly as he collects himself from the high of the orgasm. He gives Johnny a dazed grin that’s all teeth and definitely not all there in the head. 

“You wanna go again?” Johnny asks, dragging his cock drags through his folds. V rocks down, desperate to be filled, and is only met with the head of Johnny’s cock breaching him. No matter how much he rocks his hips, the older man doesn’t budge any further. 

“Always.” V whines, and God, Johnny feels like he’s won the fucking lottery in getting stuck with V. He thinks he’s lucky to be stuck with some insatiable twenty-two year old with the sex drive of a bloody hormonal teenager.

“Still thinking about that gonk?” Johnny muses, moving his hips just enough that V can begin to feel the stretch from his cock but not enough to satisfy or fill him. It was maddening, and he could see the delirium that spread over V’s face as he tried helplessly to entice Johnny to no avail.

“No fuck, you’ve ruined me. Can’t think about anyone’s cock but yours. S’fucking preem.” V babbles, hands running aimlessly over Johnny’s body, mapping out each area with the tips of his fingers.

At that, Johnny slides into V, his movement composed and determined. When he’s fully sheathed, he remains still for a moment, reveling in the way V’s cunt clamps around him, enveloping him in that tight warm heat. Forearms come to settle on either side of V’s head, Johnny’s head dips, hair curtaining around his face and tickling V’s skin.

“Good, your mine to ruin. No one else gets this, no one else gets to see you like this.” Johnny growls into V’s ear as he begins to rock his hips in and out of V in a steady rhythm. The sudden uptick in his movements making V keen loudly, hands scrambling for purchase in Johnny’s shoulder blades.

“Yeah,” V agrees in a moan, head tipping back as he rocked his hips back, meeting each of Johnny’s thrusts. “I’m yours Johnny, every part of me.”

“Thats right baby, you’re all fuckin mine.” Johnny sounds pleased with this, tone breathy as he fucks into V. Each cry V produced sent tremors through Johnny’s body, making warmth spread over every inch of his skin knowing he was the one to do this to V. It made him feel alive, better than anything he’s ever experienced.

The movements of his hips were sharper, his composure slipping into something more animalistic. The sounds V made had his inhibitions drop, the reactivity of the other man making him lose all control he may have had as he chases after the high he craves.

He slides a hand down between them, nimble fingers working against V’s clit in slow torturous circles. It was a sharp contrast between the brutality of his hips but complimented it in a way that turned V to nothing. He had the man’s eyes damn near rolling back as he moaned like a whore beneath him, so eager and willing to hand himself over entirely to Johnny and just soak up whatever the man would give him. 

“Oh fuck, _fuck_ I love you Johnny.” V cries out, orgasm tearing through his body like a hot blade slicing through butter. His whole body trembles, pussy clenching down hard against Johnny’s cock. He pulls the man close, holds Johnny to his chest in a feeble attempt to ground himself as he drowned in pleasure. 

The confession and V’s heated touches are enough to push him close to the edge. He’s so lost in V, the way his nails scrabble at his shoulder blades, how he can’t stop himself from moaning Johnny’s name like it’s the only fucking word he knows. It’s intoxicating, like the smoothest glass of whiskey he’s ever had. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the weight of those words, to draw back in fear; instead, it makes him feel like he’s going to have a bloody heart attack. With a few more stuttered thrusts, he’s spilling inside of V with a low groan of the man’s name.

V’s grip doesn’t loosen right away; he soaks of the feeling of Johnny’s weight on his chest. They sit there, settled together like they’ve done this countless times, and soak up each other as they come down from their respective afterglows. 

Slowly, Johnny peels himself from V with a grimace. Their sweat slicked skin, creating a small squelching noise that filled the silence. He moves to settle next to V, lying on his back. 

Johnny doesn’t dare utter a word, they were in dangerous territory, and there was no fucking way he would open his mouth to say the wrong thing. The last thing he needed was to do that and send V into an episode and subsequently flatline him.

V doesn’t speak either, just moves to grab the ashtray and cigarettes that rest on the concrete floor beside his bed. Lighting it up, he settles back in and lays there, an ashtray on his chest and a cigarette dangling from his lips. He stares vacantly at his bookshelf, staring at the titles he’s collected over the years absently. His stomach has twisted itself into knots, body tense like a guitar strung too tight. 

V takes a long puff off the cigarette, eyes still trained on the titles of books. “Hey, I’m uh, fuck I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” He says, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He glances over at Johnny before averting his gaze once more. Too afraid of what he might see. “I’m uh, fucking high.”

That’s a lie. He hasn’t been high since they walked in the fucking door. High on lust, maybe, but any drugs he had done earlier weren’t the reason he had said those words to Johnny. No matter how much he wanted to blame it on them. 

“I’ve fucked tons of chicks who have professed their love for me while they were riding my cock. None of them have said it like that.” Johnny says his tone is melancholic as he thinks of the past and the present. He shifts in the bed and settles on his back, staring up at the sticker-covered ceiling.

“I didn’t say I didn’t mean it.” V says, voice quiet as if he doesn’t want to be heard.

“I know.” 

“Freaks me out to be honest.” Taking a final drag off the cigarette, he stamps it out into the ashtray before moving it to rest on the floor once more. He holds the smoke in his lungs, lets the toxins burn at the tissue before he’s verging on a coughing fit. Exhaling, he shifts onto his side resting his weight on his forearm so that he can stare at Johnny. There’s a grim look on his face, lips pressing thin as if mulling over his next words. He was deciding what to reveal and what to conceal from the man. “I’m not,  _ fuck  _ I’m not the kind of person who wears their heart on their sleeve. Been fucked around by every fucking person in my life.”

“I get it.” Johnny looks at him, and V finally allows himself a good look at the man. He looks vulnerable, with no glasses to hide his gaze. There’s a sad look in his eyes, years of mistakes, and countless regrets swirling within dark eyes. “You’ve seen my memories, you fuckin’ know i’m not exactly relationship material.”

“But I still want you.” V groans in frustration. He leans down, sinks himself into Johnny’s side, and presses his face to the man’s neck. Inhaling deeply, he takes in the man’s scent. The distinct smell of Johnny floods his system, and a calm washes over him. It makes him feel safe.

“You have me.” Johnny’s arm comes to wrap around V, holding him close as if any less of a grip would have V disintegrating to nothingness. 

“Yeah because you’re in my fuckin’ head Johnny.” It was cruel. The first time V has allowed his walls to come down and allow himself to feel something for someone beyond friendship, and it was with a Goddamn hallucination of a terrorist, Rockstar. Just V’s luck. “Would I still have you if you weren’t?” 

“I’m not the only one whos ruined someone.” Johnny admits, his voice is soft and unsure. It was refreshing to hear something other than smugness or filth in his tone, a gentle reminder that Johnny was human. Or as human as a bunch of ones and zeros could be. If V wasn’t so fucked up over this, he might have genuinely been able to enjoy it. “I wasn’t lying to you before, most people can’t fuckin’ stand being in the same room as me. And you? I’m _ in your fuckin’ head  _ and you're still here tellin’ me you love me.”

He can’t help but wonder if this was some sort of elaborate scheme. How many other people had seen Johnny like this? He can’t exactly imagine many people getting to experience this side of Johnny, and it wouldn’t have looked good for his image if he was running around getting soft for every side piece he got involved with. And his reputation certainly didn’t align with that narrative. V can’t help but wonder if Alt ever got to see this side of Johnny; from his glimpses of the two, he couldn’t discern much tenderness. He knew there was something there, he could feel it in the way Johnny spoke of her, but it was different. 

“Fuck Johnny.” V groans, burying his face further into the older man’s neck. His hands come up to rest on Johnny’s shoulders, fingers curling into the soft flesh beneath his fingers. “You cant do this to me, get my fuckin’ hopes up like this. I’m going to die. You’re fuckin’ killing me Johnny.”

The episodes or whatever they were were starting to get worse. Each time his body slipped, begging to give up, he was one step closer to the inevitability of his fatality. The fear grew more profound each time it happened. It turned his insides rotten, leaving a bitter metallic taste to fill his mouth and painting his hand as a ghastly reminder of what was happening to his body. 

“I know, I know fuck.” Johnny murmurs, his metal hand rubbing V’s back, a meager attempt at comforting him. “Hey, hey it’s okay. V, look at me. We’re getting out of this.” V lifts his head, enough to catch Johnny’s gaze without leaving the comfort of the crook of his neck. “Not gunna let you die.”

“You don’t know that. And fuck, even if I don’t,” There’s a sudden panic to his voice, the muscles in his chest paralyzing and making it near impossible to draw in any air. He sits up, pulling himself free from Johnny’s grasp, and draws his knees to his chest, hugging them close. “If I don’t get zeroed then you die. Either way, I fucking lose.”

He wasn’t entirely sure if these emotions were truly all his or just amplified from coming off blow. Maybe even some of Johnny’s feelings mixing alongside his like gasoline on a flame. Either way, the emotions that wracked his body were agonizing. 

Johnny sits up and shuffles closer, wrapping his arm around V, and holds him close. He noses his temple affectionately as his hands soothe over the chrome and ink littering V’s body.

“Well figure it out.” Johnny assures him, but it’s hollow. V can hear it, and he can feel the self assured Johnny fizzle out into uncertainty. He wants it to ease his worries, wants so badly to believe what Johnny is telling him like it’ll all work out like some fucking fairytale. 

But when did life ever work out like that? Especially for someone like V. People like V, fuck even people like Johnny or Rogue, or  _ Jackie _ . They didn’t get happy endings. Sooner or later, the unforgiving inevitability of their lifestyle would catch up to them, and there would be nowhere they could run. 

V turns his head, resting his forehead against Johnny’s, letting out a breath of air he didn’t know he was even holding. They sit, soaking in the intimacy of the moment as the air of sadness hangs over them with a heavyweight to it.

“Whatever happens, I love you, you fucking asshole.” V breaths, voice shaking as the words leave his lips. He can feel the way Johnny’s lips curl into a soft smile. He feels the warm puffs of breath, leaving Johnny’s against his lips. 

“I love you too, V.” Johnny presses his lips to V, his kiss pressingly deeply against him whilst remaining chaste. It’s the first time since they fucked earlier that warmth begins to bloom beneath his skin. Cleansing himself from the rot that grows within himself and replacing it with something better. Something kinder and soft. And just for a moment, he lets himself fall weak and enjoy it. “Now come on, you need some sleep.” 

They make their way under the covers through Johnny’s insistence. Stating that he was not letting V sleep like a fucking weirdo hanging half off the bed that was big enough for the two of them to sleep in comfortably. They’re comfortably situated in a tangle of limbs, Johnny’s arm wrapped around V’s waist while he rests his head against Johnny’s chest. It felt right, the way they sat slotted against each other like two adjacent puzzle pieces. 

Rather than fighting it as his mind screams at him, too, he allows himself to settle in. Let’s himself sink into the warmth and comfort that Johnny brings him in these times. He just hoped Johnny was right, that they would figure it out. And maybe skirt past the fate he knew was waiting for him into something better. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
